


A Flower For You

by Altenprano



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Not really from any specific point in the campaign though definitely post ep20, just some cute fluff, minor spoilers from ep19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 04:43:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14804588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Altenprano/pseuds/Altenprano
Summary: While waiting for the rest of the Mighty Nein, Nott and Yasha continue to bond over their love for flowers, and Nott gives Yasha a gift. Based on the prompt: "Nott and Yasha bonding while stuck waiting somewhere."





	A Flower For You

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a prompt sent to me on tumblr, which was "nott and yasha bonding while stuck waiting somewhere," sent to me by anonymous. I hope you enjoy.

Nott did not like being left behind.

It made her anxious, to be in one place, while the rest of the Mighty Nein (and more importantly, Caleb) were in another. Her stomach had twisted like a bunch of eels as she watched the rest of the Nein—Beau, Mollymauk, Jester, Fjord, and Caleb—continue journeying towards the small village. Caleb must’ve noticed her nerves as the rest prepared to depart, because he had promised that they would only be a couple of hours, and Nott knew Caleb always kept his promises to her.

She knew why she was being left to wait in the small copse, but that didn’t make things any better. She knew goblins weren’t welcome in small villages, and while she was certain she could blend in, the news of goblin raids in the last few weeks made the danger clear. She understood why people hated goblins—they were terrible, savage people—and, why they would hate her for belonging to such a despicable race, because it was only natural that they would. She was staying behind because she wanted to, because she didn’t want to cause any trouble for the Mighty Nein, who needed supplies if they were to continue on their journey.

Yasha had stayed behind as well, which was something of a comfort to Nott, though she still wasn’t sure if the barbarian was a Xhorhasian spy or not. Still, it was better than Nott being left on her own (though she was perfectly capable, if they were attacked, of defending herself), and even if the two sat in silence for the most part.

Nott did not like sitting still.

Her hands twitched in her lap, looking for something to do, for buttons to fiddle with, or something to practice her aim with. She took a long drink from her flask, hoping the booze would calm the nervous twitch in her fingers. Usually, Caleb would give her Frumpkin to hold, and the cat’s demand for attention was usually enough to calm the twitch in her fingers.

“I’m going to stretch my legs,” she declared, standing up and taking another sip from her flask as she did.

Yasha looked up from the medallion she’d been examining (she did that a lot, Nott realized, and she wondered what made it so interesting), and gave a nod. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Nott shrugged. “If you want,” she said. “I’m not going far…I mean, I’m just not good at sitting still.”

She’d stay within range of her Message spell, just in case anything happened and she needed help, and she knew Yasha was fast, even without Caleb’s magic to help her.

“Okay,” the Xhorhasian woman said, running her thumb over her medallion. “I guess…Don’t be gone too long.”

Nott nodded and headed out, recalling the grassy hillock that was just on the edge of the copse. She’d walk that far and then return—that should be enough to keep her from getting too bored while she waited—and then she could ask Yasha about the medallion, and that would help to pass the time.

When she reached the hill, Nott was greeted by the sight of little daisies that popped out of the wild grass, punctuated by clusters of clover. The sight of all these wildflowers gave her an idea, and she took the time to gather as many as she could carry (leaving more than she took, though, because too take more would be rude to anyone else who wanted to pick the wildflowers), careful not to bend the petals.

On the return journey, she wondered what kind of flowers Yasha had in that book of hers, and if she had any daisies or clover. They were common flowers, but there was still a chance, wasn’t there?

Upon her return to the spot where the rest of the Mighty Nein had agreed to meet up, Nott set her flowers down carefully and began to sort through them, making piles of clover and daisies. Once that was done, she found the most intact flower from each pile, and presented it to Yasha.

“For your book,” she said, offering up the flowers with a wide grin. She couldn’t help but wonder if Yasha found her smile unnerving—goblins were hardly known for their dental hygiene—but the pale woman made no comment. “I don’t know if you have these kinds of flowers already, but I thought you might like them.”

A small smile appeared on Yasha’s lips. It didn’t spread to her eyes, the way Molly’s or Jester’s smiles did, but Nott could see her expression soften. “Thank you Nott,” she said, reaching into her bag to retrieve the book where she kept her flowers and opening to an unoccupied page. “Do you want to put them in?”

“Of course not.”

Without any sort of hesitation, Nott went up and placed the clover flower and daisy side by side in the page. She placed the flowers in the book with a sense of reverence that even she didn’t full understand, except that somehow this book and the collection within was something special to Yasha, like Jester’s sketchbook, or Nott’s own button collection (though she just had the buttons and knick-knacks because she thought they were interesting, not because she dedicated it to a god of any sort, so that was maybe stretching it a bit), and when she was finished, she stepped away.

There was a moment while Yasha studied the page she’d opened too—whether she was reading the actual contents of the book, or looking at the flowers, Nott wasn’t sure, nor was she going to ask—and then closed the book. Nott watched as she brought it close to her chest and took a breath, her mismatched eyes closed, and then she opened her eyes and placed the book back in her pack.

“What are the rest of the flowers for?” she asked, eyeing the piles Nott had made earlier.

“I was going to make flower chains, like Jester showed me.” Flowers were pretty (not like buttons or doorknobs, but still pretty), and Nott was pretty sure they were good luck too, and you could never have too much good luck. “Caleb likes it when I put flowers in his hair too, and they keep him safe, so I was going to keep a few for that too.”

“How do the flowers keep him safe?”

Nott shrugged. It was definitely not a goblin superstition, and she couldn’t remember where she’d heard it, but she liked it, and Caleb liked it too. The first time she’d suggested it, he’d smiled, and it made her happy to see her boy smile.

“I don’t know,” she answered, gathering a small handful of flowers and placing them in one of her cloak’s many pockets. “They just do.”

“Oh.”

Silence fell between them as Nott started working on the first flower chain, the careful work perfect for her nimble fingers. While repetitive, it gave her something to do, and calmed the Itch, appeasing her need to do something with her hands.

The first chain was small, the perfect size for her to wear as a circlet, which she did. She remembered seeing a group of halfling girls wearing them at a spring festival once, and similar crowns of marigolds at a harvest festival months later. She remembered how beautiful they were, and how beautiful the crowns of flowers must’ve made them feel. Her own circlet made her feel pretty, though not as pretty as the halfling girls had been, for, after all, their skin wasn’t green, nor were their teeth crooked.

Someday, she told herself, as she started working on another chain. This one she made sure would be large enough to crown Yasha’s head, because if girls liked flowers, and flowers made you pretty, surely Yasha wouldn’t mind some of her own. She put more clover in this one, so that there would be enough color to stand out against Yasha’s white hair, like gemstones on a proper crown.

When she was finished, she offered the daisy and clover crown to the barbarian, wondering what her response would be. Part of her worried that Yasha wouldn’t like it, or maybe, where Yasha was from, it was an insult of some kind.

“For good luck,” she said, and the barbarian woman smiled.

“Thank you,” she said, sitting still so Nott could place the crown carefully atop the multitude of plaits and matts that her hair was arranged in. She smiled again, and reached up to touch the crown, lips pressed together as she brushed her fingertips over each petal. “It’s very pretty. You’re very sweet, Nott.”

Nott beamed. “I can show you how to make another one,” she said. “Not right now. Maybe later. I don’t have anymore flowers.”

Yasha laughed.

Nott wasn’t sure she’d ever heard Yasha laugh, but it was a nice sound, a warm sound. Definitely not what you’d expect a towering, vaguely threatening woman who had wings like the ones Nott had seen, to sound like when she laughed. It was a little unsure, too, almost as if she’d forgotten how to laugh, or hadn’t laughed in a long time.

“I…I would like that very much, yes.” She nodded. “When you have more flowers, of course, and when…when I’m not called away.”


End file.
